


Bus Stop In The Rain

by queeniesye



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chance Meetings, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, One Shot Collection, Romance - if you look hard enough, The beginning of friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queeniesye/pseuds/queeniesye
Summary: A man with a silvery voice that she met at a bus stop during a downpour has piqued Tifa Lockhart's interest.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	Bus Stop In The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired largely by the current monsoon season in my country. I've also been so busy lately, with less time to rest from work. So I just wanted to write something that appreciates some of the mundane things in life that we often take for granted.

Grey clouds began to gather in a sky that was growing indigo in colour by the minute. Beneath the sky, the city lit up with lights to guide its dwellers in navigating through mazes of dull grey urban structures. Streams of exhausted office workers walked out of giant corporate buildings, carrying the smell of cigarette smoke, sweat and saturated perfume, to their cars parked at designated lots, or to catch some other modes of transportation for a ride back home. Inside one of these buildings, the time displayed on a wall clock hanging on a dark blue wall of an office belonging to a book publishing company was 6pm. The office was almost empty of its usual occupants, except for a few who stayed behind.

Tifa was one of them, still flipping through a document containing hundreds of pages at her workstation. Red pen marked some passages on the papers, and specified her reviews on what needed to be amended. Sometimes, her reading glasses would slide down lower than to her liking, and she would push them back up the bridge of her nose. If her eyes went dry and she needed a moment away from reading, she would take her glasses off to press her fingers over her closed eyes.

“Not done yet?” a voice from the workstation adjacent to hers was asking. She looked up to find Aerith, with her head peeking over the partition.

She shook her head. “Unfortunately. I’m struggling a bit with this one.”

A smile of sympathy shaped Aerith’s lips. “Is it Heidegger’s?”

Tifa puffed out as she fell her back onto her chair and nodded.

“Ahh that’s a rough one… and it will not get any better. It’s one thing to review his manuscript… and another to convince him to make the changes,” Aerith said, crinkling her nose in frustration as though she was recalling the moment when she too had to deal with the Heidegger. “I suggest that you continue tomorrow. Speaking from experience… the reviewing can’t be done overnight.”

It was tempting to dismiss Aerith’s advice. Tifa was itching to complete the reviewing, knowing that she would not have to do so on yet another day. Downpours started pelting against roofs, creating noises that were unpleasant to her head. The time on her wristwatch and her fairly empty schedule for the month were compelling reasons not to do an overtime. “I guess… I have some time left before the deadline.”

Aerith wagged her finger. “Sticking to your working hours is better for your health too!” Tifa watched as she stuffed her file into her handbag and heard her zipping it up. “Can’t bring you to Johnny’s again tonight, though. Got a date to catch!”

“Oh great. You found one for your Wednesdays. Who is it this time?”

Aerith let out a light laugh and winked. “I’m afraid his time might extend beyond my Wednesdays!” Aerith slung her bag onto her shoulder and dashed out of the office. “See ya!”

The time on her wristwatch was 6:45pm when Tifa was riding the elevator. It made several stops at the lower floors, opening up to more riders and pushing her further in. In the crowded space, Tifa grew impatient and started tapping her heels against the floor. Only the chime of a bell, specifying that the elevator has reached the lobby would appease her restlessness… which was cut short when she caught sight of the umbrella stand close to the rotating glass entrance doors. No matter how hard she looked, there was no trace of her umbrella! She cussed herself for letting the thought of bringing one slip from her mind.

“Guess I have no choice but to make a run for it,” she said to herself. 

Placing her bag on top of her head, Tifa sprinted out of the building, across pedestrian crossings and sidewalks, until she found herself sheltered underneath the gable of a bus stop. She put down her bag and lifted her head up to read the bus schedule displayed on the digital board: _Bus 510 – 30 minutes_. She sighed, releasing visible clouds of cold breath. With the chilly autumn air, worsened by the dampness from her head to her shoes, Tifa agonized over the prospect of waiting thirty minutes outdoor for the bus.

As she leaned her back against the glass walls of the bus stop, the acidic scent wafting from the rain pricked into her nose. Her hands trembled as they reddened under the coldness, and she listened to puddles splashing as people walked by. When her stomach growled, she was not surprised, for cold weathers often awaken a sort of more frenzied than usual appetite in her. Her thoughts wander to the piping hot soft wet noodles submerged in seaweed broth – her typical order at Johnny’s. Her daydreaming paused when she felt a certain kind of heat coming from a presence that made its way to her side. She had no interest of checking who it was, a habit formed out of city life’s preference for anonymity. That was until a gentle tap on her shoulder made her turn.

A man with spiky blonde hair and a pair of gentle deep blue eyes was offering her his cotton flannel handkerchief. “Here, please use mine to dry yourself.”

It was the silvery tone of his voice that caught her off-guard. She accepted his offer with hesitancy and started using it to wipe her hands, while occasionally flashing awkward half-smiles in response to his similarly restrained smiles. Following the bus schedule on the dot, bus 103 arrived and parked at a designated spot in front of the bus stop. The man stepped forward and pulled up the hood of his lilac sweatshirt over his head.

“Hey, thanks for this,” she said, peeping at his face as she tried to hand his handkerchief back to him.

The man retreated his head into what little space he had inside the safety of his hoodie. “Umm… it’s alright. You can keep it, for now.” When the bus doors opened, the man climbed onto the stairs, without turning back, until he reached a landing where he could show his bus pass to the driver. Tifa observed as his figure disappeared into the bus as he made his way to a seat located far back.

Bus 103 left, and her eyebrows furrowed. _Why would I want to keep this…?_ She wondered.

***

Rain was pouring again in Midgar. The streets popped with colours coming from vibrant umbrellas carried by pedestrians. Neon lights hanging from tall buildings were reflected on puddles flooding roads and pathways. The drainage rumbled with the sound of water trickling in. Moisture had settled in the air, leaving the landscape misty and somewhat difficult to traverse through. Tifa was running again to the bus stop, with her bag on top of her head. It was yet another day of her overlooking the need to bring an umbrella. She swore the record number of times that she forgot to do so could have profited her had she cashed on them!

A hunched figure sitting at the bus stop, who she could recognise through the condensed glass walls, slowed her pace down. His blonde hair seemed to harmonise with the lemon yellow hoodie that he was wearing. Covering his ears were a pair of turquoise blue headphones connected to what Tifa believed to be a voice recording device. He was holding a small notebook, to which he wrote several lines on a page.

Tifa did several light jabs to his shoulder, until he raised his head up to look at her. “Hey! It’s nice to see you here again.”

The man laughed and pulled his headphones down. Tifa caught the slight blush on his cheeks. “It’s nice to see you here again too.” His eyes began studying her figure. “Forgot your umbrella again?”

“…Yeah,” she nodded, growing self-conscious, under his watchful eyes, with the way her soaking attire was sticking onto her. She wished she had not arrived in front of him while looking so scruffy. Shifting the focus of their conversation away, she hastily retrieved his handkerchief out of her bag. “Here… I’ve washed it.”

The man took the handkerchief and tucked it into the muff pocket of his hoodie. “You really didn’t have to...”

Bus 140 came and parked, inviting its riders to hop in. A large crowd of them did up till the bus was crammed. When it left, more people came to wait at the bus stop, and Tifa took a seat beside the man. The rain was easing up into drizzles and the initially muffled sound of ongoing conversations became audible, as though people were savouring once again the full ability to flex their ears and their vocal cords without any hindrance. Tifa felt like joining in too, beginning with introducing herself to the man, “I’m Tifa Lockhart, by the way.”

“I’m… Cloud Strife,” Tifa noted the tenseness in his speech. It was like he was not used to the social situation that she just put him through. 

Her throat was drying up, reacting to the uncertainty she was feeling about continuing the conversation. She endured it, choosing to act as normal as she possibly could. Pointing at her office building, she told him, “I work with the Wallace Publishing Company.”

“Oh! My workplace is just the building right in front of yours. I’m with Shinra Broadcasting Network,” he replied with a face that lit up, giving her the impression that he was delighted with the fact that their workplaces were not so far from one another. When he noticed the look of surprise on her face, he turned away almost immediately, as if mortified by the spectacle of his giddiness.

She pursed her lips to hold back her giggle. “You’re a journalist?” she asked again, wanting to keep their conversation going.

“Yeah… but not the investigative kind,” he answered, nodding his head. “I just moved here from the Junon branch.” Glancing at her, he returned her question, “And you…?”

“Editor, for non-fiction books.” She thought about him telling her that he was new to the city and had almost gathered enough courage to make a suggestion… but the sight of bus 103 pulling up in front of the bus stop and Cloud rising up disheartened her.

_You have enough time to get to know him_. Those were the words she kept repeating in her head to placate herself.

It took a while for her to realize that Cloud was saying something to her. His words came to her in gabbles of distorted words, like someone was speaking under the water, until they moulded into readable forms that spell a sentence expressing exactly what _she_ wanted to say to him, “Give me a tour around here… next time.”

Before she could even process what she just heard, bus 103 was gone.

***

“I’ll need your manuscript by tomorrow, Ms. Scarlet.”

The city was drenched by rain once again. Traces of water raced against one another as they rolled down solid surfaces. Children wearing colourful raincoats cackled gleefully as they ran around playing with puddles in boots that seemed oversized for their feet. Parasols outside cafés and restaurants remained closed as patios were left empty, with most clients preferring to dine indoors. Face masks covered areas beneath the eyes of a number of pedestrians, a hint to the start of the flu season. Tifa was on her phone at the bus stop, listening to the person at the other end of the line speaking in a raised voice. Her other hand was gripping onto the handle of a closed transparent umbrella. The phone call was ended abruptly without giving Tifa a chance to respond, leaving her staring on the phone screen in incredulity. Vexed, she exhaled a heavy tremulous breath.

On the digital board, a written announcement was made about the arrival of bus 510 being delayed for another forty-five minutes. She sighed again with mounting frustration; she needed a distraction to calm herself down… In her ears, she heard the soothing voice of a certain someone produced out of her memory. Her curiosity piqued, moving her to search for his name on a web browser, along with the name of his workplace: _Cloud Strife, Shinra Broadcasting Network_. The search result directed her to a list of articles penned by him for anyone to read, and she decided to check on one that caught her attention the most – _“Strawberry Neckties: Midgar’s Current Fashion Fad”._

The article was written with a certain kind of vibrancy, a style Tifa would not have guessed came from someone like Cloud. It began with the recounting of a memorable red carpet moment where Midgar celebrity, Sephiroth had worn a strawberry necktie that complemented his immaculate pink suit during the premiere of his latest blockbuster, thus inspiring so many others to follow. Details about the growing reputation of both Sephiroth’s stylist and the designer of the strawberry necktie; the list of Midgar models posting pictures on their social media, or walking in the streets wearing pieces of strawberry garments, fashion brands incorporating strawberries into their collection and a survey result presenting general favour towards the strawberry fashion fad among Midgar citizens filled in the rest of the article’s content. Tifa was impressed, though not surprised by Cloud’s seemingly extensive knowledge as she thought of the outfits she saw him in.

It was not long before her person of interest came to the bus stop, as she anticipated. Instead of a hoodie, he was donning a black bomber jacket printed with white symbols of a wolf’s head. As soon as Cloud closed off his umbrella, Tifa watched as he started shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair.

His fussiness with his hair amused her. “The rain’s rough for your hair, huh.”

When he saw her, the astonishment on his face quickly turned into a sheepish smile. “Sorta…”

“How’s it going with you?” she asked as he settled beside her on the bench.

There was an unmistakable passion reflected from the glint of his eyes. “It’s great. A lot of progress on this article I really want to write.”

“I’ve read one of your work. The one about the strawberry neckties,” she said, before showing him the article that she was referring to on her phone. “It’s impressive.”

He let out a boyish chuckle, reminding Tifa once again about how much she liked listening to his voice. “Thanks. That’s huge, coming from an editor.” Tifa noticed that he was less nervous than usual as he asked, “And… how’s it going with you?”

As an unforthcoming person, Tifa never liked sharing information about herself, or her life to anyone, not even those close to her. But something about Cloud’s tenor managed to sway her into talking. “Hmm… not so great.”

“Difficult authors?”

She nodded, and he nodded too in return to express his understanding.

“I’m all ears if you need someone to talk to,” he reassured her, with the kindliest of smiles – the first of its kind that she saw from him.

It made her squirm with shyness. “Thanks…”

Bus 510 arrived thirty minutes earlier than the schedule predicted and it was upsetting Tifa. A while ago, all she wanted to do was to ride the bus home, drink a mug of hot chocolate and curl up in bed without having any care about anything related to her work. Then Cloud came, and she wished the bus would arrive _later_ than the scheduled forty-five minutes delay, just so she could spend more time at the bus stop beside him. She stood up with sheer reluctance and started making her way to the bus entrance doors; it almost felt like she was dragging her feet.

“Tifa!” Cloud’s loud calling of her name shocked her. When she turned to him, he asked, with a much softer voice, “Do you… remember what I said to you last time?”

_How could I?_ An answer she said to herself, but did not vocalize.

“I… would really appreciate it if you could give me a tour around the city.”

She wondered whether the request was made because he was genuinely in need of someone to guide him around, or… it was because he was somewhat interested in her. Regardless of the answer, Tifa knew it just opened her to so many possible ways for her to get to know him more.

The rain was showing no sign of it slowing down. Vehicles passed by on the road, splashing puddles of water from underneath the tires to the sidewalks. Many without anything to cover themselves with took shelter beneath jutting roofs. Among bushes that were growing brown by the autumn weather, snails moved slowly and discretely, away from discerning eyes on large leaves. The bus driver was waiting for Tifa to enter… and Cloud was waiting for her answer.

The corners of her lips lifted as she beamed. “Absolutely. I would love to.”


End file.
